Hope Shards

There we stood - maybe sat -

hurling words

back & forth

“I said,” “You said,” “I did”

“You lie!”

All intended pain,

humiliation, shame,

but nothing hit

hard enough,

deep enough,

to break the other.

It may have continued

- ad nauseam -

if this had

never happened.

I heard what you said.

“You think…” you claimed.

“You intended…” you asserted.

“You see me as…” you insisted.

No, I realized. I did not.

In that instant,

What I could not

see before -

the barrier that

softened each strike,

the mirror through

which we both

peered darkly -

shattered.

Or at least mine did.

Shards flew,

cutting deep

into my own self,

the self, of course,

who knows everything.

Wounded, confounded, ashamed,

I saw you anew.

Still angry, yes,

defiant, too,

and, well, it seemed,

frightened,

vulnerable.

You continued flinging

feverish projections

of your own self

unto me.

You had yet to see.

“Honey,” I started,

“I’m sorry.

I want to understand.”

You froze.

“Really?” you challenged me.

“Why not before?”

You looked at your watch.

“I have to go.”

You walked out.

Alone, amidst

my ego’s

broken mirror,

I couldn’t help but ask:

“Have I never seen anyone,

really, before?”

Humbled,

I gave thanks for you,

then wondered,

who, what,

will break your own?

Soon, I hope,

for only then,

may our words

be true.